


We're Doing Better.

by Quackity



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alexis | Quackity Needs a Hug, M/M, everyone is worried
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28562625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quackity/pseuds/Quackity
Summary: Quackity was not a victim, no. It was his fault Schlatt acted the way he did. It was simple: Quackity had made a mistake and Schlatt had punished and corrected him for it so he would know not to do it again. If anything, Schlatt was just making him a better person, right? And… And Schlatt was the only one who could love him. No one could ever love Quackity the way Schlatt does.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt
Comments: 5
Kudos: 174





	We're Doing Better.

**Author's Note:**

> Reuploading this since people were complaining about me using Quackity's real name. [: Just mentioning that I do NOT ship the real life people, only the CHARACTERS they portray. Thank you, and if you enjoy, please do leave a kudos! [:

_“You’re just a fuckin’ waste of a human being, Quackity! You can’t do anything fuckin’ right!” Schlatt’s voice boomed, filled with venom and anger as he drew his fist back, only to swing it forward and collide his knuckles with Quackity’s cheek. Quackity gasped, stumbling back as he clutched the side of his face in pain. Schlatt then pressed the smaller boy up against the nearest wall, forcing the younger’s hands from his face to instead replace his own hand on the boy’s throat; large fingers pressing down on the skin to restrict Quackity's airflow. Schlatt glared down at him with dark eyes, examining the new bruise beginning to form right on Quackity's cheekbone._

_Quackity couldn’t speak, the hand around his throat restricting him, and his hands now scratching at Schlatt’s at an attempt--a plea--to let him go. His head began to feel heavy, vision becoming more and more spotty the longer Schlatt’s fingers withheld air from him, and he began to feel his heartbeat in his ears. And then, right before Quackity would pass out, Schlatt released him, causing him to gasp for air, dropping to his knees as he became lightheaded. Quackity could sense Schlatt’s body hovering over him, and once he had the energy, he lifted his head to stare up at his partner. Schlatt just shook his head slowly, spitting down at the boy at his feet before turning around and beginning to walk back to his office, muttering, “Get the fuck up and get back to work.”_

* * *

“Quackity? Quacktiy, hello? Earth to Dickhead?!” A familiar voice freed Quackity from his haunting thoughts, causing him to jump a bit. Turning on his heels, Quackity was now face-to-face with Tommy. But before he could open his mouth to speak, the teenager was continuing on. “Jesus Christ, you look absolutely fucking _horrible,_ Big Q, what the fuck happened?” He had asked, and unlike usual, he sounded _genuinely_ concerned. 

“Well, thanks, Tommy,” Quackity said with an awkward chuckle, hand scratching the nape of his neck nervously. “It’s nothing to worry about, though! It was my fault, I’m always getting into some kind of trouble,” the older, yet shorter, spoke, not being able to hold eye contact. This wasn’t the first time he’s been caught with a new bruise, and he’s becoming really good at making up excuses for it. “I got in a conflict with a few zombies when I was trying to hunt for some food after dusk the other day.”

The way Tommy’s nose scrunched up as he spoke his story made Quackity believe that the younger wasn’t buying it, but then after a moment of silence, the blond nodded his head slowly before speaking up again. “You need to be more careful, then, you idiot.” And that reply made Quackity mentally sigh, because... he had gotten away with it again. He could never let anyone know that Schlatt was the source of all these new bruises and markings all over his body. They would say he was a _victim;_ that Schlatt doesn’t love him. Quackity was not a victim, no. It was _his_ fault Schlatt acted the way he did. It was simple: Quackity had made a mistake and Schlatt had punished and corrected him for it so he would know not to do it again. If anything, Schlatt was just making him a better person, right? And… And Schlatt was the only one who could love him. No one could _ever_ love Quackity the way Schlatt does. 

“You reckon you’d like to come help me build my tower, then?” Tommy asked, gesturing towards the half-finished cobblestone tower that could be seen just off into the distance. Quackity gave the other boy a smile; desperately wanting to help him build his tower--to help anyone do absolutely anything--but then he looks down at the propaganda posters for Schlatt’s candidacy in his hands and he remembers he was sent out to L’Mamberg for a reason: To put these posters up. Not to help build towers. 

“As much as I would love to, I’ve got to finish putting these up for Schlatt,” Quackity told Tommy, holding up the stack of posters. “But once I get the time, I’ll totally stop by and help if you still need it!” Quackity knew he would never have the time to help Tommy when he said it, and he could see Tommy’s eyes glazing over the poster that was being held out to him, eyes narrowing a bit before they met Quackity's own.

“Schlatt, huh?” The boy had scoffed out, eyes glancing from the poster to Quackity's neck that was an aurora of blues and purples in the shape of a hand print before finally resting back on his bruised eyes. “I suppose. I’ll talk to you later then, Big Q, and… Uh, promise me you’ll keep safe, yeah?” 

All Quackity could do was nod his head slowly at the words before telling Tommy, “Yeah, yeah, I will, _lo prometo_.” And then the older watched as Tommy turned and ran off towards his tower; leaving Quackity standing in L’Manberg alone with a pile of propaganda posters to finish hanging. And for just a moment, Quackity allowed himself to longingly watch from afar as Tommy and a few of his friends began working on the tower before he turned on his heels and continued to hang up the posters with Schlatt's face all over them.


End file.
